A thousand years have passed, yet to this day I wonder,
Since I stood there, alone, upon a hill, out yonder…
Branches entwined as hair reaching for the sky,
Ever dreaming, hoping, that one day I could fly.

Yet now, here I am, petrified in woman’s body.
Cast as a sculpture by nature’s cruel laws…
My veins still pulsating in stillness of a stone
Still reaching for the sky, still dreaming alone.

All that I’ve left is beauty that once did adorn me
Upon that forlorn hill, ‘ere lonesome yet ever hoping
That gods that gave me life, again would make me whole
Accepting from my hands, my lonesome, living soul.

Poetry by Stanislaw Kapuscinski (a.k.a Stan I.S. Law)

to the stone sculpture Petrified Soul by Bozena Happach

Petrified soul3a         Petrified soul1a

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